


Of Rattlers and Role Reversals

by SabbyStarlight



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Bromance, Gen, Hurt!Jack, Hurt/Comfort, I just really miss Jack, Jack!Whump, My hand slipped and I accidentally wrote in some James hate, Sorry Not Sorry, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 13:19:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20097850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabbyStarlight/pseuds/SabbyStarlight
Summary: “C’mon, Jack,” Mac forced himself to laugh as he reached out and carefully took Jack’s hand. “Despite what you want people to think, you’re not stupid. You’d tell me if you actually got bit by a…” His words trailed off and his mouth went dry despite the water he had just downed as he turned Jack’s hand over and saw the two puncture marks.





	Of Rattlers and Role Reversals

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve been craving some Jack whump for a while now, and I think I can speak for the entire fandom when I say that beating up on Mac comes much easier than hurting Jack, but I decided to give it a shot since it had been so long since I’d attempted a Jack-centric whump fic. Here’s me hoping this isn’t too terrible.

Mac should have seen it, he really should have. But he was so used to Jack staying a few paces behind him, automatically placing himself and his gun between Mac and danger, that he didn’t think anything of the way his partner began trailing behind while they were running through the Oregan forest after successfully blowing up the safe house of a hitman Matty was tracking. He just continued on until they made it to the airstrip with one of Phoenix’s jets waiting to take them home. And in Mac’s defense, Jack waited until they were in the air, after Mac had tossed their bags into the storage compartments and gotten them each a water bottle from the minifridge, before he said anything.

“I’m gonna tell you something and I need you to keep cool, alright?” He asked, slowly turning the water bottle over in one hand, not meeting Mac’s eyes.

“Okay…?” Mac looked up, twisting the lid back on his already half-empty bottle and placing it in the cupholder.

“Now you’re not allowed to freak out, you hear me?” Jack asked. “It’s no big deal,” He winced as he pulled up his shirt sleeve, a move that was seriously hindered by how swollen his forearm was, and held his arm up to show Mac.

Mac leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, staring at the swollen, red skin. “What’d you get into in those woods, man? If that didn’t look like it hurts so much it’d be funny cause I swear that almost looks like a snakebite.”

Jack just held his partner’s gaze, eyes calm, breath measured and even, and for a brief instant Mac was transported back to memories of a desert-camo-clad Jack wearing that exact expression peering through the scope of a sniper rifle. “C’mon, Jack,” Mac forced himself to laugh as he reached out and carefully took Jack’s hand. “Despite what you want people to think, you’re not stupid. You’d tell me if you actually got bit by a…” His words trailed off and his mouth went dry despite the water he had just downed as he turned Jack’s hand over and saw the two puncture marks.

“It’s not a big deal,” Jack repeated as he pulled his hand out of Mac’s tightening grip. “And I did tell you. Just now.”

“Then please tell me how waiting until we’re mid-flight to tell me you need a hospital seemed like a good idea?” Mac exclaimed, jumping out of his seat and digging through the plane’s overhead storage compartments for a first aid kit. “What kind of snake? When? How long ago? Seriously, Jack do you know how bad this is?”

“Med kit’s in that bin over there,” Jack said, pointing with his uninjured arm towards the other side of the plane, “but there’s nothin’ in it that’ll do me any good Phoenix don't keep snakebite kits on planes. Though I'm starting to think they maybe should. Just come sit down and stop freaking out.”

Mac grabbed the medical kit, which, frustratingly enough, was exactly where Jack said it would be, and returned to his seat, but he was anything but calm. “We need to tell the pilot to turn around,” He mumbled, half to himself, as he dug through the medical supplies they had, frowning when he realized that, once again, Jack was right and there was no antivenom or anything else to help their situation onboard.

“We ain’t turning around,” Jack rolled his eyes. “That’s why I didn’t tell you till just now. We’re less than two hours away from landing back at Phoenix, I’ll be fine till then.”

“You’re not fine, Jack!” Mac yelled, voice rising to a panic. “You have…”

Jack cut him off, hoping to thwart what was starting to look like the beginnings of a full-blown panic attack. “I have a snake bite,” he agreed calmly. “A rattler. And it got me about,” He glanced down at his watch. “Forty-eight minutes ago, I’ve been keepin’ track. And since you’re in the clear so long as you get antivenom in your system no longer than four hours after contact, I really am gonna be just fine. So long as my partner's big brain doesn't go spiralin' out on me.”

Mac sighed, running his hands through his hair and staring blankly out the jet window for a few moments. “Alright,” He said finally, nodding. “Alright, but I need you to be honest with me here, okay?”

"Of course," Jack nodded, leaning back in his seat and crossing his legs at the ankles. “Whacha wanna know?”

“Symptoms,” Mac answered automatically. “All of them. Without you downplaying anything.”

“Arm’s burning pretty bad,” Jack admitted easily. “But I'd assume that’s to be expected. Bit of a headache, little dizzy, kinda nauseous. Seriously, Mac. All things considered? I really am good. We’ll be landing in less than two hours. We’ve got plenty of time.”

“I still can’t believe you tried to hide this from me,” Mac said, shooting Jack a glare as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “And just because you’re not going to die on me before we land doesn’t mean it’s gonna be a fun rest of the flight. You're just going to feel worse until we get help.”

“Who you calling?” Jack asked, absentmindedly rubbing at his wrist.

“Messaging Matty,” Mac answered, not bothering to look up. “Letting her know to have medical briefed and waiting on us.” He put his phone back in his pocket once he was sure the message had sent. “Okay, um, snakebite protocol…” He said, squeezing the bridge of his nose trying to make himself remember. “Um, keep heart rate slow, no unnecessary exertion.”

  
“Kinda blew that one out of the water when I went running through the woods now, didn’t I?” Jack asked with a smirk.

“If we could save the jokes for later that'd be great, thanks.” Mac said, jumping out of his seat again, returning a few moments later with an icepack. “Put that on your arm and keep it there.”

“This supposed to help with the swelling?” Jack asked, placing it against the underside of his wrist, biting back a hiss at the cold.

“It might,” Mac conceded as he dropped to his knees and began digging through the first aid kit. “Mostly it’s just to slow the spread of venom.”

“Damn,” Jack frowned down at his arm, showing the first sign of being even slightly concerned about his personal health since they boarded the plane. “I was really hopin’ it would bring the swelling down. Think it’s startin’ to go all the way up my arm now.”

Mac’s movements froze as his mind started spinning into overdrive, “How’s your throat feeling?”

“Uh, a little weird, now that you mention it, why? What’s that mean?” Jack asked.

“That swelling in your arm?” Mac said, frantically resuming his search through the medical supplies, “Is just going to keep spreading as the venom works it’s way to your heart. And it's starting to affect your airways.”

“Great,” Jack answered, voice a pitch higher than usual, nervous. “That sounds super fun.”

“Airway restriction is actually what kills most snakebite victims, not the venom itself. And it’s not going to get any better unless I can find… Gotcha.” Mac said, pulling a little white pill bottle from the bottom of the plastic box.

“Benadryl?” Jack asked, squinting as he strained to read the label on the bottle. “I think this is a little more serious than an allergic reaction, Mac.”

“Antihistamines,” Mac said as he removed the lid and shook three of the pink pills into his palm. “Actually will help with the swelling. Not much, but hopefully enough to keep your throat from closing up before we land.”

“And I’m all for that,” Jack agreed, reaching out his hand. “Hand ‘em over.”

“Wait,” Mac called as Jack went to toss the pills into his mouth. “Chew. Don’t swallow. And let it completely dissolve in your mouth.”

“Seriously?” Jack asked, eyebrows raised. “You know how nasty that’s gonna be?”

“Yeah, well ask me if I care,” Mac said, closing the lid on the first aid kit and climbing back into his seat. “It’s better than the alternative.”

“Okay, okay,” Jack began chewing on the pills with no further arguments. “Just making sure you weren’t messin’ with me. You know, payback for not telling you about the snake sooner?”

“Oh, I’m plenty mad about it,” Mac assured. “Especially after all the years you’ve spent threatening me if I would so much as hide a papercut from you. But that’s a conversation for later.”

Jack nodded, he had expected as much when he made the decision not to worry his partner until they were in the air, and continued chewing, face drawing into a grimace at the bitter taste. “What exactly is the point of me doin’ this again?” He asked.

"The drug's absorbed faster through the membranes of your mouth than it is through the stomach. Get's it into your bloodstream faster." Mac explained. "Same reason you chew up an aspirin when you've had a heart attack."

"Good to know," Jack admitted, though he was still scowling at the taste of the medicine. "Tastes awful though."

"I swear you're the only person in the world who would complain more about the taste of the medicine that could very well be saving your life right now than the snakebite that caused the issue in the first place." Mac glared at him.

"You're really mad at me this time, aren't ya?" Jack asked, settling back in his chair and readjusting the icepack on his wrist with a wince.

"Wouldn't you be?" Mac asked, "If I had kept it from you?"

"Sure, but you wouldn't." Jack shrugged. "You know better than to try something like that."

"My point exactly. You have no issue oversharing in every other aspect of your life but when it comes to something like this," Mac gestured at Jack's arm, "Something that really matters? You just make the call not to mention it?"

"Exactly," Jack agreed. "I made the call. My decision."

"And you're my partner." Mac shot back.

“My job’s to watch your back, Mac,” Jack reminded, none too gently, eyes darkening. “Not to be a burden. Not to bother you with my screwups and take your mind off of the mission you were sent to do.”

“Is that really how you see it?” Mac asked, “Cause from where I stand, man, we’re partners. Equals. And I can’t do my thing without you. You’re always there when I need you, it’s not gonna be the end of the world if you let me do the same every once and a while.”

“I’ve just spent so long telling myself that my only job is to keep you safe,” Jack sighed. “It’s a weird feeling, needing you to have my back for a change.”

“I always have your back.” Mac corrected. “Is that why you waited till we were on the plane to say anything? Because you were worried about the mission?”

“Little bit,” Jack admitted, ignoring Mac’s disapproving head shake. “But I really was keepin’ an eye on the clock. I’m not an idiot, Mac, I knew what I was doing. If we would’ve been cutting it too close time-wise I woulda told you earlier so we could high-tail it to the closest hospital. Promise. Wouldn’t let some damn rattler be the thing that takes me out for good and leaves you runnin’ around saving the world all alone.”

“Yeah, okay,” Mac sighed. “But next time just tell me, okay? It’ll make both our lives easier.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Jack agreed, taking off his aviators to rub at his eyes. “Startin’ to think waiting it out wasn’t the best idea anyway.”

“Feeling worse?” Mac asked, sympathy not managing to mask the concern in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Jack admitted, knowing that attempting to deny it would completely contradict the conversation they had just had. “Sweaty and achy. Everything’s kinda spinning at the moment, which isn’t near as much fun as it sounds.”

"How's the arm feeling?" Mac asked, nodding towards Jack's arm. It was still swollen, nearly doubled in size, and a deep red.

"Honestly?" Jack asked. "Ignoring the fact that my instincts are screamin’' at me not to say anything to upset you? It's hurting something awful."

“Any issues catching your breath?”

“Naw, chest’s a little tight but I’m good,” Jack assured. “But, um, would it really freak you out if I just crashed the rest of the flight?”

Mac thought for a moment, seriously considering refusing because he knew not having his partner awake and answering his questions would cause his panic to spike even higher, but he knew that if the roles were reversed Jack would do whatever he could to make the situation any easier on him. And if sleeping until they landed was what Jack needed, who was he to stop him? “Go for it,” Mac answered. “Want me to help you over to the couch? You’d probably be more comfortable.”

“Nope,” Jack shook his head, frown deepening as it made the plane cabin spin more, before kicking his seat back as far as it would recline and closing his eyes. “That requires moving.” He was asleep within minutes.

~M~

Mac tried to keep himself busy the rest of the flight, moving to the back of the plane to place an actual phone call into Phoenix Medical, talking with the doctor on call, who assured him that he had done all that he could and that Jack was correct, as long as they landed and got Jack treated within four hours of the bite, he would make a full recovery. It did little to ease Mac's nerves, though.

His barley-contained panic rose with each moment that passed. Jack slept through him checking his pulse every ten minutes and didn't even stir when he placed a damp washcloth against his forehead, mostly in an attempt to lower his fever, partially because he was selfishly hoping he would wake up. Having Jack in any form, even in his current miserably hurting state, was more comforting than not having him at all, and Mac had to frequently remind himself throughout the remainder of the flight, in his inner voice that sounded oddly similar to Jack's, that everything would be just fine.

Despite the fact that he had spent the majority of the last leg of their flight wishing Jack would wake up, when they finally landed and he found himself actually having to wake his friend, Mac felt nothing but guilt. At least if he was asleep he wasn’t in pain. A quick glance down at his watch, though, was motivation enough.

“Hey, Jack?” He asked softly, hand on his shoulder, ignoring the heat radiating through his shirt. “I need you to wake up, big guy.”

Jack stirred, after a few gentle shakes from Mac, and cracked his eyes open. “Awake hurts.” He said with a groan, shoving the nearly-thawed icepack off his wrist and to the floor, it’s slight weight alone was oppressively painful against his arm.

“I know,” Mac said, hoping the sympathy in his voice was masking the worry. “But we’re gonna get you feeling better. Think you can make it down to Medical or should I send someone up with a wheelchair?”

“Don’t need a damn chair,” Jack grumbled, the offensive idea motivation enough to force himself up to standing. "I've got two perfectly fine legs, thank you very much."

Mac huffed out a laugh. "I always forget how cranky you get when you're hurting," He teased following Jack's movements, ready with a steadying hand on each of Jack’s shoulders when he started swaying. “You sure you're good to walk?” He asked, fairly certain that Jack wasn’t even aware of the tight hold his good hand had claimed on Mac’s shirt as he breathed through the sudden change in height.

“Yeah, just,” Jack sighed and Mac could see the tole the internal struggle of having to ask for help was taking. “Stay close?”

“I’m right here,” Mac assured, carefully looping Jack’s uninjured arm across his shoulders as they started making their way off the plane. "I've got ya."

~M~

Unfortunately, the first person the two of them came across when they made it into the building, was none other than James MacGyver.

“Angus. Dalton,” He greeted them with a nod. “I’m assuming you’re on your way to Medical?”

“Venomous snake,” Mac answered quickly, not wanting to waste any unnecessary time. “They’re prepped and waiting for us.”

“For Jack, you mean.” James corrected, adding almost as an afterthought. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine,” Mac frowned, not liking where he thought the conversation was heading. “But I’m going with...

“You have a post-mission debrief waiting for you downstairs.” James interrupted. “Phoenix protocol. I’m sure Jack can manage this without you holding his hand every step of the way.”

“Go on, Mac,” Jack spoke quietly, shifting slightly so that he was holding himself upright instead of leaning on his partner. “I’m good.”

“No, you’re not,” Mac insisted, tightening his grip on Jack’s wrist that was still slung across his shoulder. “I’ll report in for debrief after I make sure he gets checked out.”

James’s eyes darkened in a warning. “I know you’re not exactly one for following orders, Angus, it’s not a skill that comes naturally to you, so I’ll try to explain this for you again. If you’re so insistent on keeping Agent Dalton as your partner, you’ll follow the rules set into place by the organization you both work for or I will begin searching for you a new Overwatch. One who is capable of making sure you follow protocols and is smart enough not to get himself bit by a damn snake in the middle of a mission.” He turned on his heel and walked away. “You’re choice.” He called out, once he was halfway down the hall, not even bothering to turn his head to shout over his shoulder.

“I’m good, Mac,” Jack tried again. “Really. You got me this far. Go check in, file a mission report, I’ll be good as new by the time you’re done.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Mac hissed as he started slowly walking towards the elevator, tugging Jack along with him. “Protocol or not. I’m at least making sure you make it to Medical. The way you’re looking right now? I’m honestly not sure if you could make it there alone if you tried.”

“Feel pretty rough,” Jack agreed, collapsing against the wall with a huff as they waited for the elevator. “Don’t wanna cause problems between you and your dad though.”

“Don't worry about it,” Mac assured. “I’ll get you to Medical, then head down for debrief. All he said was for me to report there instead of staying with you. Didn’t say I wasn’t allowed to make a quick pit stop along the way.”

~M~

Mac found himself, hours later, still sitting in one of the debrief rooms, knee bouncing up and down, as his fingers turned a handful of paperclips he had lifted off the desk into the shape of a coiled snake, as a Phoenix tech asked him question after question about the mission they had just completed. They were always thorough, that was nothing new, but jobs that ended with an agent injured usually required a little more paperwork, which was something Mac really didn’t have the patience to deal with at the moment. Not when his mind was up in Medical with his partner.

He was immensely grateful when Matty pushed the door open without as much as a courtesy knock and sent the tech sitting behind her desk a glare.

“Mac,” She asked, slowly, shifting her eyes to him. “Is there a reason you’re down here filing a post-mission report when Jack is upstairs terrorizing my medical staff?”

He winced. “Oversight directed me here. Trust me, it wasn’t my call. Is Jack alright?”

“Of course he did.” Matty sighed, rolling her eyes. “Jack’s fine, just being his typical, ever-charming self. I’ll take care of James, you get to where you’re supposed to be.”

Mac’s felt some of the tension that had been building up since he caught his frist glance of Jack’s arm on the plane drain from his shoulders. “Thanks, Matty.” He turned to the tech who had been observing the conversation in wary silence. “Are we done here?”

“Um,” She hedged, glancing down at her computer screen, but Matty quickly answered for her.

“You’re done. Go.”

Taking his chance, Mac quickly stood up from his chair and made his way to the door, stopping only to squeeze Matty’s shoulder in a silent thank you before quickly bounding his way down the hall to find his partner.

~M~

He could hear Jack’s voice as soon as he entered the medical ward.

He easily followed the sound, working his way through the maze of exam rooms and curtained-off partitions until he reached the small hallway of private rooms. "You know," He called as he pushed open the door he could clearly hear Jack's complaints coming from. "I'm pretty sure there's some people in here who would like to rest but can't because of you're loud mouth." He smiled when he saw Jack sitting up in bed and looking significantly better than the last time he saw him.

“Mac,” Jack sighed in relief. “Will you please tell them to let me go home? I’m fine.”

“You do look way better,” Mac agreed. If it weren't for the IV lines and dark blue sling he would have looked perfectly fine. "But I think we need to let the professionals make the call on this one."

“Twenty-four hour observation period,” The nurse who had been arguing with Jack when Mac entered the room said in a tone that clearly indicated she was tired of having to repeat the words. “As I’ve been trying to explain to Agent Dalton, he can go home then, and not before.”

“And there’s no way to shorten that? Not even if I stayed with him?” Mac asked. “He’s had one hell of a day, I’m sure he just wants to go home and rest.”

“Are you prepared to do a blood draw every three hours and run the necessary tests to make sure the antivenom is working properly?” She asked, “Otherwise, no.”

“I mean, I probably could,” Mac shrugged, sending Jack a sympathetic grin. “But for both our sakes I think you better just crash here tonight, man.”

The nurse just rolled her eyes and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

“Every three hours,” Jack grumbled, leaning back in the hospital bed. “This is ridiculous. I’m fine.

Mac grabbed the chair from the corner and pulled it closer to the bed. “They left the IV port in,” He said, nodding to the hub in Jack’s arm. “It’s not like they’ll have to stick you each time. You’ll probably sleep right through it.”

“Yeah, but I’d sleep a lot better in my own bed,” Jack argued, still not giving up on the idea of going home. “I hate this place.”

“I know,” Mac said. “But it’s just for one night, I think you’ll survive.”

Jack sighed, rolling his head against the hospital-grade pillow, to fully look at Mac. "It's weird. You being the one sitting there keepin' watch. That's usually my gig."

"Well, I guess it was just my turn." Mac smiled a little crooked grin. "You really feeling okay? Or were you just saying that in hopes of getting out of here."

"Not great," Jack shrugged. "But better than I was earlier, honest. That plane ride got pretty brutal there for a while."

"Yeah it sure seemed like it." Mac agreed. "Not gonna lie, man, you had me worried on this one."

"Sorry," Jack said softly. "I really didn't think it would get that bad that fast. Thought I had plenty time to ride it out. I didn't wanna worry you. I guess that plan backfired big time, huh?"

"Yeah," Mac agreed. "Let's just leave coming up with the plans to me from here on out, okay?"

Jack scoffed. "Says the kid whose definition of a plan is doing some shady math and just hoping for the best? That’s exactly why you need me watching your back.”

“True,” Mac agreed. “But it’s not gonna kill you to let me watch yours every once in a while. In fact, it might just do the exact opposite.”

“You could be right about that one, brother,” Jack said around a jaw-cracking yawn. “You could be right.”

Mac smiled. “Get some sleep, Jack.”

“I ain’t gonna be able to sleep,” Jack protested, though he pulled the blankets up further on his chest and closed his eyes as he spoke. “Not with you watching me like some kinda creep.”

“Sure, of course not.” Mac agreed easily, shaking his head in fond exasperation when his partner’s snores filled the room moments later. He carefully propped his feet up on the corner of the bed, mirroring a position he had seen Jack in countless times throughout their time at Phoenix. Hospital stays were never fun, but there was a certain kind of comfort that came from being able to heal and rest knowing that your partner was there, just an arms-length away, watching your back.

It wasn’t a role Mac got to take on very often, but he stepped into it easily, glad to be able to pay back even a little of the comfort Jack had provided for him over the years.

**Author's Note:**

> As with all my fics, I am in no way a medical professional. I don’t even play one on tv. So please, don’t use my writings as actual medical advice. That being said, the Benadryl thing is something I have grown up hearing and I can’t think of a legitimate reason for it not to be work, at least to some extent, so do with that information what you will. It’s such commonplace in this fandom to see people writing Mac hiding an injury from Jack but I’ve always felt like it would be the other way around. Mac is so reliant on Jack being his rock that he’s not going to keep something like that from his partner, at least not anything serious. Jack, on the other hand, I can totally see feeling weird about admitting he’s hurt on a job because he didn’t want Mac to worry. I don’t know, I could be totally off base here, it’s just a little headcanon I’ve had for a while that worked its way into this fic. Hope you liked it!


End file.
